


A Dream is a Wish

by antebellums



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Cinderella AU, F/M, Friendship, Mini Fic, Riverdale AU, Romance, fairytale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 16:08:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18253268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antebellums/pseuds/antebellums
Summary: Ella Kensington had always been taught that she was named after light, because she brought light and laughter into the house. With an evil stepmother and two stepsisters that make it their sole mission to make her life miserable, the only comfort Ella finds is in the animals and the palace worker named Sweet Pea she met as a young girl. When the King announces that his son shall host a ball in the Southern Kingdom and all of the Northern Kingdom maidens were invited, Ella hopes it might be her chance to escape the malicious attitudes of her stepfamily. With a little kindness, courage, and the help of her Fairy Godmother Toni Topaz, Ella embarks on a journey she'll never forget.





	A Dream is a Wish

The day Ella Kensington was born, her mother said a flower bloomed in the dead of winter.

There were probably many explanations for this fact. Now that Ella was older and knew about winter-blooming flowers, it wasn’t anything magical that a flower had managed to survive the cold of the snow and creep through the crack in the pavement outside the Kensington home. When she was younger, however, she had truly believed that this was a sign of magic and light. It was looking at that flower that her mother had decided on the name Ella. “It means light, my darling,” she had whispered to Ella late at night after engaging her young daughter in one of her fantastic stories, a tale of princes and dragons and witches that weren’t always necessarily evil but never necessarily good either. “And you brought light into this house.” Ella liked it when her mother said that. It made her feel important.

And for the years leading up to her tenth birthday, her life was just that. Full of life and light and magic. The flower bloomed every winter, always seeming more vibrant and colorful on Ella’s birthday, like it was greeting her and wishing her a happy year ahead. 

Ella stared at it now, her little hand coming up to brush against the yellow petals. She had been sent outside while the doctor did his work. She had wanted to stay inside and be with her father, but he had insisted that the flower looked beautiful today, that she simply _must_ go see it. And the flower did look beautiful, with a light dusting of snow covering the leaves and making them look the color of mint. Her shoulders shivered in the snow, but the thick cape her father had thrown around her shoulders was doing its best to keep her warm. Her finger stroked across the petals once more, smiling down when she heard the chirping of a house sparrow. 

“Hello,” she said softly, holding out her finger as the bird swooped down to rest on the ground. It stared at her curiously, blinking large eyes as she spoke calmly. “I don’t suppose you could tell me what’s going on in there?” Her voice was shaky now, unable to keep the worry out of it. The bird continued to stare at her before hesitantly taking a step forward, towards her outstretched finger. “That’s right, I won’t hurt you. You can trust me.” 

Gently outstretching her finger even more, the bird backed away a couple of steps before cocking its head at Ella. She smiled again, whistling a soft tune to make the bird more comfortable. It took a small step forwards, pressing its beak against Ella’s finger as if to gauge the danger it would face. 

“Everything will be alright,” she whispered.

Her body flinched when she heard the slamming of the front door, the action scaring the bird into flight. Her eyes followed its wings as they flapped aggressively in the air, propelling the bird forward and away from her. Instead of chasing after the bird, like she might have another day, her eyes fell on the doctor leaving her house, and her father in the doorway. He was leaning against the threshold for support, eyes wide and unseeing as he stared out at his daughter, standing in the field in her pretty yellow dress. 

“Ella, darling,” he said quietly, reaching out his hand. She rushed to him, dress flying behind her as she stretched her hand to latch onto him. “I’m so sorry, Ella,” he whispered. Pulling her close, he hugged her in an embrace that was as much of a clutch for him as it was for her. Tears gathered in her eyes, threatening to spill as her worst fears were confirmed. “She wants to see you, love. Go on,” her father said softly, pushing her towards the direction of the stairs. 

Ella’s feet felt heavy as she walked up, hands gripping the railing. It was like her body was going through the motions of walking, but her mind was somewhere far away. It was years in the future, trying to figure out how she was possibly going to survive without her mother by her side. Her foot hit the last step, catching on the lip of the wood. She didn’t feel her body tumbling, but rather the sight of her mother, standing in her bedroom and looking smaller than she’d ever seen her. The impact only stung when she looked down and realized her knee was bleeding, red liquid dripping on the wood.

“Ella, darling, are you alright?” her mother asked worryingly, moving as fast as she could to Ella’s side. Ella would miss the comforting touch, the one she was feeling now as her mother picked her up from the top step, inspecting the cut on Ella’s leg with wide eyes. “Darling, you scared me. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

“I’m okay, mother,” Ella whispered in a small voice. She allowed her mother to grip onto her elbow and gently pull her into the room. There was a wet cloth her mother had probably been using to keep her fever down already on the table next to her mother’s favorite rocking chair, the same chair Ella had fallen asleep on multiple times. Her mother grabbed the towel and instructed Ella to sit in the chair, giving her a smile. 

“It might sting, but that just means we’re getting rid of the bad stuff,” Ella’s mother said quietly. Ella stayed silent, watching her mother with watery eyes. “You know, life is like that, too. Sometimes we have to sting for a little bit, but then we’re making room for good things and healing.” Ella couldn’t help the trembling of her lower lip. Her mother saw it, but simply frowned and continued to work on cleaning Ella’s knee. 

“I don’t want you to go away,” Ella suddenly cried out, unable to keep it in any longer. And like her voice, a storm coming in, the tears started. It was like she couldn’t stop them, feeling them fall down her cheeks like rain. Ella could only suppose the heartbroken look on her mother’s face echoed the expression on her own. “I don’t want you to go away and leave me.”

“I will _never_ leave you.” The rag was set down on the floor and Ella’s face was cradled in her mother’s hands. “Ella Kensington, you listen to me. You are the love of my life. You and your father are all I care about in this world. And I will always be with you. In here,” Ella’s mother laid a hand over Ella’s heart, “I will always be by your side. You are my light, Ella. Don’t forget that.”

Ella should have told her mother that being with her, being her daughter, was her light too. But in the four days that followed, Ella’s mother got too sick for Ella to be around her. She was allowed to say good morning when she brought her mother breakfast, and was allowed to say goodnight when she brought her mother a fresh wet cloth to keep on her forehead while she slept. Ella cherished those few short moments in the days that passed, holding them close to her heart at night when she heard her mother coughing from the other room. 

“Good morning, mother,” she said the next morning, walking in with her mother’s preferred breakfast— eggs from their chickens, milk from their cows, and berries from the neighbors, who were always sending over baked goods. “I hope you slept well last night.” Ella hummed softly, knowing her mother liked to hear it as she moved across the room, setting the tray of food on the table near the curtains. She opened them slowly, allowing her mother to adjust to the light filtering in through the windows. Picking up the tray of food once again, she turned to face her mother. “How are you feeling, mother?”

Her mother simply groaned in response. Ella’s smile fell immediately. 

“Do you need me to get father?” Ella asked breathlessly, like someone had sucked all the air out of her lungs. Her mother could barely stand to nod. Ella didn’t even bother setting the tray of food down, rushing out of the room as fast as her little feet would carry her. “Father!” she shouted. “Father, it’s mother!”

She had never seen her father run as fast as he did in that moment, taking the stairs two at a time. She tried to follow behind at the same pace, but she still had the tray in her hands and was out of breath. Her little body persevered, taking the stairs up and up until she made it to her parents’ room.

The first thing she saw was her father, kneeling next to her mother with his head in his hands. She didn’t register the noise he was making, her eyes moving to focus on her mother, who was staring at the ceiling. But it wasn’t like how she stared at Ella when Ella brought her breakfast or said goodnight. It was like the life had been drained from her eyes and she was a shell of Ella’s mother. And then she registered the noise she heard faintly in her ears was the sound of her father crying.

Ella didn’t feel the tray fall from her hands, didn’t feel the milk splash on the bottom of her dress or the berries stain the carpet. All she felt was heartbreak. The tears came easily, streaming down her face as easily as the clouds rained. She barely felt one of their cooks grab her shoulders and usher her out of the room, too consumed with the sight of her lifeless mother to notice anything but the feeling of her heart cracking in her chest.

“Ella!” the cook called when Ella broke away from the embrace and rushed outside. Her dress brushed the dirt, the milk making the brown particles stick but Ella didn’t care. All she needed at that moment was to get away from that house, to get away from the inevitable missing piece that would forever shadow her home. “Ella!” she heard again, further away this time because Ella was gone, rushing like the wind.

She ran until she couldn’t feel her heart breaking in her chest anymore. She ran until the tears dried up and until her skin was so cold with the brisk air that she was numb. And it wasn’t until she was standing alone in the forest that she even registered anything anymore.

The forest was quiet. Ella was so used to the hustle and bustle of her house that she didn’t remember what quiet sounded like. She found she didn’t like it, sitting there in silence. She could appreciate the sounds of birds in the trees, but other than that sound, there was nothing. 

Ella felt nothing.

“Excuse me? Miss? They’re… um… they’re hunting out here. It’s probably not safe for you to be out.”

Ella looked up at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. Her eyes met those of a boy around her age, maybe a couple of years older. His hair fell to about his shoulders, in a length that would have her mother laughing that he needed a cut. It was the same color as the tree bark in the winter, a sharp contrast to her platinum hair. He was wearing the king’s sigil on his cape, a big emblem of a double-headed serpent painted with vivid green. It suited this boy, with his dark hair and eyes. But he looked kind, like the kind of person that wanted to make people smile. 

“Do you… do you understand English?” he asked when she didn’t respond.

“I should hope so, as it’s the language I speak at home,” she answered, giving him a small smile to let him know she wasn’t upset at his assumption.

His cheeks colored beautifully, she thought, the pink making his olive colored skin look a little sunkissed. “Oh,” he muttered under his breath. Ella couldn’t stop the smile on her face from growing.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t poke fun,” she responded. 

“May I ask why you’re out here?” he asked, ignoring her scolding of herself. He didn’t seem to mind that she had given him a sarcastic response. If anything, he looked surprised and a little cheered at it.

While his cheeriness grew, Ella’s evaporated. The vision of her mother, of her father crying, came back tenfold. The boy across from her looked terrified when tears gathered in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. You don’t have to tell me. Please, just… stop crying.”

Ella reached up a hand to wipe away the tears that fell. “It’s not your fault. My mother…” she trailed off, biting her lip as a sob threatened to escape. “She…” But he seemed to understand that no words would come from her mouth any longer. He nodded, eyes turning into liquid mahogany as he stared at her with empathy.

“My father too. A year ago now,” he mentioned. “I still get upset sometimes. But you know she’ll never leave you. As long as you have memories, she’ll always be there.”

“That’s what she told me,” Ella said shakily, wiping away more tears. “I’m sorry I’m being so rude. My name is Ella.”

“My name is…” he trailed off, then gave a shy smile, “well, my mother calls me Sweet Pea. Most of my friends, too. You can call me Sweet Pea if you like.”

If he expected her to scoff at his silly nickname, he was mistaken. Her eyes lit up in appreciation. “Sweet Pea. Oh, it’s a beautiful flower.”

“My mother’s favorite. My father bought her bouquets everyday for a year after I was born.”

Ella was delighted at the story. “My mother used to tell me when I was born, there was a flower that bloomed. It would bring light and magic to our house. That’s why she named me Ella, because it means light.”

He smiled when she frowned. Reaching out hesitantly, he touched her hand, a small sign of comfort. “That sounds like a good memory.”

Her curls bounced as she nodded. Before she could respond, she heard the distant sound of her father calling her name, the sound of it echoing through the forest. Both she and Sweet Pea started at the noise, jumping as if it was a monster coming to get them. “It sounds like you’ve got to go,” Sweet Pea said, and Ella could swear she heard a little bit of sadness in his voice. She wondered what he did in the castle. Maybe he wasn’t around other kids his age a lot. She didn’t mind being without human friends because she had the small mice that occasionally came into her room when she left out food, but she could imagine it would be incredibly lonely in a place as big as the castle.

“My father,” she offered as an explanation.

“I send you both my condolences,” Sweet Pea said, in a voice as sweet as his name suggested. He lowered his body to the ground in a crouch, reaching for a beautiful dandelion that was growing where they stood. “It’s not much, but… bring that to your home. From me. Hopefully when you look at it, it will make you smile.”

“Sweet Pea, it’s beautiful.” And it would inevitably make her smile. “Thank you. I hope to see you again.”

“Have courage, Ella. It will be hard, but you’ll get through it. Just like your mother thought you would.”

Ella stared at him for a moment before she suddenly threw her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. He blinked, unsure of what to do. The only hugs he’d ever received were from his mother, and she was much taller than him. This little pixie of a girl was at least five inches shorter than him, on account of his “growing like a beanstalk” as his mother liked to say. But it was also nice to be hugged by someone who didn’t seem to know he was royalty. It had been so long since he’d been around someone like her. At twelve years old, he was lonely as ever.

“I know we’ll see each other again,” Ella said confidently, pulling away from the hug and smiling again. There were still tear tracks on her cheeks and Sweet Pea was sure she wasn’t done crying, but for the moment she looked like she would be alright. “Goodbye, Sweet Pea.”

And then she was gone, her dirtied dress flowing behind her as she followed the calls of her father. Sweet Pea watched her go, a little seed of hope blossomed in his chest at the prospect of an actual friend who didn’t want him for his royal status.

“Goodbye, Ella,” he whispered, knowing she’d never possibly hear him.

**Author's Note:**

> The Cinderella AU no one asked for but I am providing. Blame entirely the 2015 film version because this completely inspired this story.


End file.
